


A Sip of Seduction

by Araschia



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 09:14:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27468532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Araschia/pseuds/Araschia
Summary: It's just another day with Red Wine and Steak not getting along. Gingerbread and Mooncake had set up a scoreboard. Red Wine: 2 and Steak: 1. If Master Attendant charged $3 for admission to watch those two food souls argue and fight, their total restaurant profits would increase by at least 200%.All's normal...except for a strange red mark on Steak's neck suspiciously resembling a hickey.Red Wine was never one to charge into battle, but here on this bed, it was a different story.“I’ve been denying it.” Steak clenched his fingers. “I’ve been denying it, okay?There's a fine line between hatred and love.
Relationships: Red Wine/Steak
Kudos: 19





	A Sip of Seduction

“The food soul with twin swords and the one who looks like a fancy vampire are fighting in the restaurant,” a newly summoned food soul, Black Pudding, commented while holding her syringe tight. Gingerbread waved the matter off.

“It’s normal around here, as normal as breathing and eating at this point. Let them fight.”

She blinked. “Oh, okay.”

The restaurant was as full as always. The usual patrons — the grandma, the robber, and the otaku — didn’t even glance at the fight. A few little lolis stared at them, as well as Nian who chuckled to himself and the skeletons whose empty faces became even more sullen as they watched. 

“Fashion is a way of intimidating the enemy. Not that you’d understand, you fashion-incompetent hornhead.” Red Wine’s arms stayed by their sides. Steak, on the other hand, gripped both his swords and pointed them at him.

“What?! Did you just insult my horns?” 

Gingerbread, who had entered the restaurant as Red Wine was speaking, shoved popcorn acquired from Popcorn into her mouth. “Wow, what a jab.”

“You’d better take that back, you idiot, before I beat you up like never before.”

Red Wine smiled, knowing it added to the other food soul’s fury. “Sure. You say that all the time. You clearly forget how much of a burden you are on missions, especially ingredient-collecting ones. You mistook grass for leeks once.”

Steak was getting red in the face. “Just once, okay? It was tall grass. Like you didn’t settle for the inferior strawberries because you said the area with the better ones was too muddy to risk. 

dirtying your coat for.”

Gingerbread and Mooncake had set up a scoreboard. Red Wine: 2 and Steak: 1. Customers munched on omurice and lobster as they enjoyed the free show. 

“I personally thought those strawberries weren’t as good. Don’t think I forgot the time you hid behind Master Attendant when we encountered an ultra-powerful Aizen.”

Red Wine: 3.

“...while you got Vodka to substitute for you in that very same battle because you said you were too sweaty to fight!”

Steak: 2.

When the score was 5:4 in favor of Red Wine, the swords came out. Gingerbread and Master Attendant shoved both of them into the rest area in the kitchen before they started dueling. The customers returned to their meals in disappointment. If Master Attendant charged $3 for admission to watch those two food souls argue, their total restaurant profits would increase by at least 200%. 

The restaurant was closed by the time the two swordsmen emerged from the rest area looking like a mess. Half of Red Wine’s hair had fallen from its near short ponytail and his dress shirt was wrinkled. Steak’s shirt was ripped in one sleeve and there was a strange red mark on his neck suspiciously resembling a hickey.

“Uhhh…” Gingerbread looked at the two of them. “You both look more messy than usual. “What happened to your neck, Steak?”

At her question, the entire restaurant staff — even Pudding, Crepe, Foie Gras, Milk, and Caviar — turned around. 

“Oh, uh, nothing, this idiot just pinched me,” he replied as Red Wine eyed him. Gingerbread narrowed her eyes.

“Huh...guess it doesn’t matter.”

———-

“You bastard! Always coming up with new ways to humiliate me in front of everyone.” Steak dug his elbow into Red Wine’s rib. 

“You were the one who kissed me so suddenly like the savage you are.”

“That didn’t mean you had to give me that hickey.”

“I did it in a way so it would hurt.” Red Wine thrust his finger on the fuming food soul’s lips. “Shut up. It was just adrenaline from fighting, don’t overthink.”

“You had better not do it again or else.”

“One more second of your presence and I think I will.”

Red Wine walked out the door. Alone, Steak stabbed the ground with one of his swords. He was an idiot for kissing that stuck-up guy. What had he been thinking? Not thinking at all, probably. Still, as unwilling as he was to admit it, he wouldn’t mind if the alcohol food soul nibbled on his neck like that again. It was a side of Red Wine he found less annoying or...not annoying at all. What Steak hated about him was his fancy clothing, the dignified smug look on his face, and how he refused to do this and that because he’d get his clothes dirty. 

Steak was polishing his swords when Red Wine dropped by again. The idiot leaned over his desk.

“Hello, you pesky parasite. I have concluded you are even more annoying than the noisy, undying fly in my room that’s been there for a week that I can’t catch.”

“Not like you to pick a fight. Didn’t you take your last shower of the day, you unmanly dumbass?” 

Steak grinned at the other food soul’s darkening expression. That was more like it.

“Unmanly dumbass? I’m perfectly manly, a perfect gentleman in fact.”

“Being manly and being a gentleman are two different things.” Steak left his swords on the desk, rose from his chair, and kissed Red Wine. The way he groaned and pressed his lips closer to his made something powerful rush along Steak’s veins. He grabbed the alcohol food soul’s shoulders. “Come on, show your manly side. I know you have one, which is still really hard to believe. Aren’t you tired of being all proper and prim all the time?”

“Second time you kissed me. I thought you hated the hickey from the first one.” His eyebrows had narrowed with something more than anger.

“Same reaction and we didn’t even fight beforehand.” 

“It’s leftover adrenaline because you’re simply so talented at irking me,” Red Wine replied, making zero effort to distance himself from him. 

“Leftover adrenaline doesn’t last so long, dummy. That doesn’t explain your groan either. I'm not deaf. Irking you, huh? You drive me crazy, that’s for sure.” Steak shoved him backward in the direction of the bed. “You wanna know just how much I hate you? Hah, you’d be surprised.”

With an uncharacteristic glint in his growing smile, Red Wine grabbed the end of Steak’s shirt with one of his dainty snow-white hands and his neck with the other. “I believe you’re the one who will be surprised, you blockhead. You slow-witted, sexy blockhead.”

“Sexy?” Steak fit in exactly three blinks before the alcohol food soul tackled him onto the pile of piping red blankets and sank one of his fangs into his lower lip. The surprise overpowered the pain. What was wrong with that stuck-up guy? When had he ever given in to his bloodlust?

“You don’t know just how warm your blood tastes, you bastard,” Red Wine murmured, licking the dripping blood and pulling him into another kiss. Tantalizing, an admission of weakness. Steak yanked on the misbehaving food soul’s ponytail and swallowed back a groan.

“What the hell? Get a fucking hold of yourself.” It was hard enough to follow his own advice. 

“Ouch, don’t pull my hair out, dimwit. I thought you said you liked it when I acted manlier?” 

Red Wine ran his thumb along Steak’s belt. The red of his eyes swirled and deepened up close. They also seemed to radiate insanity. “This isn’t a duel if only one person is making an effort. What’s the matter? Too much of a coward to do anything except pull my hair?”

“Shut up.” Steak took hold of his shoulders and shoved his still fully clothed body below his. No, of course they were still fully clothed. 

But they shouldn’t be. 

What? They were enemies. Steak gritted his teeth. Something more than hatred still surged within him. He grabbed a button on Red Wine’s coat and yanked it off. Clatter, roll, silent. 

“Wow, how audacious of you. Ruining my precious coat now, are you?” The alcohol food soul stared into Steak’s eyes, challenging, seducing. 

“I’ll ruin more than just a dumb button on your coat, you dainty swordsman.” Steak leaned over Red Wine’s half-exposed collarbone and ran his lips along it. What smooth, delicate skin. No, he was not enjoying this. No, no, no…

...yes. Dammit. 

“Wow, a brute like you doing something gentle for once. How unexpected.” The smile on Red Wine’s face seeped into Steak’s thumping heart like poison. What a snake he was. A tempting snake.

“Enjoying it, huh? That means I should stop then.” Steak made the mistake of hesitating. Red Wine kissed him hard and let slip a faint but unmistakable growl, almost stopping the other food soul’s heartbeat. 

“You spend all your time calling me uncivilized and violent, and now you’re like this.” And I fucking love it. Steak swallowed the words he couldn’t say and reached into the opening in Red Wine’s coat made by the missing button and grabbed his shirt. 

“Come on, go ahead. Take these clothes off me, I dare you. Look at you, staring at me and hesitating. Why don’t you do something?” Taunting was usually not Red Wine’s preferred method of verbal attack. Steak gritted his teeth.

“You savage beast. You—“ Instead of finishing his sentence, he pulled off the latter‘s fancy coat and after fumbling with the tiny buttons, pulled the shirt off too. He tossed both on the floor and pinned the alcoholic food soul to the blankets. Red Wine’s abs pressing against his body was almost too much to bear. Neither of them had ever tackled each other to the ground in any duel, no matter how intense. And definitely not while shirtless. 

“Bold of you to mishandle my finest coat.”

“I didn’t know a dolt who hates sweating could get abs.” Steak kissed a trail down said abs, relishing Red Wine's little shivers and squirms. 

“Let me see your abs, Steak. All of it, without the dorky little vest.” 

Not even a nickname. Steak raised an eyebrow. “Am I hearing you right? Aren’t you the Red Wine who doesn’t go two hours without yelling at me to cover them up because they’re “disgusting”?”

“Take off that stupid vest. Now.” Red Wine had glared at him almost as many times as there are stars in the sky, but this glare...it was deeper, more chilling. 

“Hah.” He cracked a grin. “I don’t take orders from you, you swine.” 

You sexy swine who’s driving me insane.

Something was wrong with his brain. Red Wine grabbed the vest, undid the buttons with far more ease than Steak had done with the dress shirt, and pulled it off him. 

“Hmph.” The alcoholic food soul rested his chin on the latter’s abs. “They look better up close.”

Steak blinked. “Did you just pay me a compliment?” 

“I never said they looked good, twat.” Red Wine’s jab didn’t hit as hard as usual. He pressed himself against the latter food soul and kissed a non-bloody part of his neck. Warm, soft lips on his bare skin. 

“Are you gonna give me another hickey?” 

“If you beg for one, perhaps.” 

“Hah, you’re out of your mind.” 

Red Wine closed one of his hands around his belt and with the other, stroked Steak’s abs, neglecting no curve, no inch of skin. His eyes glistened a darker shade of red. “You’re right for once. I’m sure you remember constantly telling me I’m “fucked up” or I should, “fuck off”, but today, you’re the one who’ll get fucked.”

Yup, definitely, completely insane. Steak stared at him. “You...what’s wrong with you?”

“You don’t feel the same way, do you, Steak?” The insane food soul grabbed the latter’s shoulders and shook him. “Tell me you feel the same way.”

Despite thousands of duels and fights, this was only the second time Steak had ever seen Red Wine truly emotional. The first time was back when his original Attendant died. Desperation, an unrelenting gaze searching for something. He was not insane, he was being serious. 

The occasional brief brush of his hair against Steak's neck during duels, his underworld prince costume Steak called "stupid" that was honestly quite seductive, glancing a little longer at him in recent weeks during breaks in quests and turning away before it became questionable, semi-conscious reveries in which their swords clattered to the ground, then soon joined by clothes... 

“I’ve been denying it.” Steak clenched his fingers. “I’ve been denying it, okay? You better listen up right now. I’ve wanted to fuck you for years, Red Wine. I’ve mind-fucked and dream-fucked you many times over. And now finally I get to do it for real.”

It was Red Wine’s turn to blink blankly at him. “Are you serious? Well, I can’t say I haven’t mind-fucked you at least a dozen times.”

“Let’s get started then.” Steak unbuckled the other food soul’s belt and yanked off his pants. Red Wine grinned and did the same to him while kissing him. It hurt to admit it, but he knew what he was doing better than Steak did. All this time, he thought Red Wine only knew how to dress high class and boast about his swordsmanship. While Steak was distracted, Red Wine slipped his hand into the latter’s boxers. It wasn’t doing anything, yet it already felt good. 

“How do you want it? Hand? Mouth?” God, Steak could listen to him talk like that all day.

“You’re willing to do mouth? You who refuses to touch your lips to any piece of silverware that you haven’t personally washed?”

Red Wine chuckled and took off Steak’s boxers. “Just answer before I change my mind.”

“All right, you. Suck it.”

“I’m doing it not because you ordered me to, but because I want to.”

Steak could not think straight. He couldn’t even think. He bit back groans as the alcoholic food soul continued, his red eyes glimmering. Red Wine was never one to charge into battle, but here on this bed, it was a different story. 

“You’re damn good at this.”

He shouldn’t have spoken. His words only made the other food soul suck harder. Steak clawed at the bedsheets in sheer determination to remain silent. Red Wine’s purple hair had broken free of its ponytail and strands of it clung to his cheeks. Just when he was nearing, he stopped and leaned over him. Damn it.

“I have to say, your dick doesn’t taste disgusting at all.” The alcohol food soul started humping Steak. It felt good, it felt too good. “Growl, Steak, make some sound. What, too shy or something? This isn’t how you fight. Actually, you’re not fighting at all.”

“Red Wine.” He had enough. Steak shoved him off, climbed on top of him, and grabbed the red-eyed food soul’s dick. “All right. Suck or stroke?”

“Suck, of course.”

“All right then.” Steak humped him instead, hard. The bed squeaked, but he didn't care.

“That’s...not what I asked for, dumbass,” Red Wine muttered, his gritted teeth suggesting otherwise. 

“I don’t take orders from you, remember, you swine?” Steak’s breathing quickened along with that of Red Wine. He slowed a little to kiss and bite those beautiful abs that were always hidden beneath dumb fancy coats, dress shirts, and blazers. 

This...this was so much better than fighting. And it was much better than in his dreams. This food soul...this man really did something to him. With slightly trembling arms, Steak pulled Red Wine in and kissed him. A soft moan escaped him and he felt the alcohol food soul smile..

“You’re the man of my dreams,” Red Wine murmured against his lips. 

“Wait...what?”

“I’m not repeating that. I know damn well you heard, Steak.” 

“I…” Steak paused and looked at those glimmering red eyes, the now untied ruffled purple hair dangling down his neck. “I was about to say the same thing.”

“It does feel strange that I have no urge to call you any name--w-what are you…” Red Wine cut himself off when Steak began sucking. “You’re pretty good…”

He tasted good. The frowning, the squirming were delightful. He wanted to unravel this constantly self-composed food soul. Steak could tell he was getting closer, closer.

And then he stopped.

“Torturing me, huh?” Red Wine sounded breathless now. His glare burned into him.

“Beg for it, Red Wine, if you want me to let you come.”

“Over my dead body.” He pulled himself up, pushed Steak onto the sheets so hard he couldn’t breathe for a second, and humped him. Movement, sweat between their bodies. Red Wine was out of control. A groan surfaced from him as he went over the edge.

“I liked that,” Steak said, grinning. 

“It ain’t over until you come too.” Red Wine resumed sucking. Steak was dizzy, thoughtless. He pressed his fists against the sheets, panting. When he was just a second away, the idiot paused and gave him a rather sadistic smile.

“Now you beg, Steak.”

“Mouth back on my dick now.”

“Why don’t we wait a bit?”

A staring contest of sorts ensued. Steak debated between looking into those eyes and wrestling him to the blankets for prolonging his yearning. 

At last, Red Wine resumed, his mouth slow and strategic, and Steak came with a moan. He swallowed.

“Didn’t expect you to swallow,” Steak panted, lying limp on the bed. Red Wine shrugged.

“Didn’t taste bad.”

They looked at each other in silence. Satisfied silence.

“Did you mean the ‘man of my dreams’ part or were you just turned on?” Steak asked, reaching out to touch a few strands of purple hair. Red Wine didn’t object. 

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll say this: I couldn’t think of a person more suitable for me than you.” For some reason, his eyes watered.

“Look who’s getting sentimental.” Red Wine stroked Steak’s horns and he relaxed under his touch. “Hey, you’re letting me touch your horns and not trying to kill me for that.”

“Only special people can touch them.” 

The grin disappeared from the alcohol food soul’s face. “How do we tell the others? Would we have to pretend we still hate each other?”

“No. Nobody will do any pretending. We’ll tell them and if they judge us, ignore them.” Steak traced Red Wine’s lips. “I think this is worth fighting for. Do you?”

“I...of course I do.” He gave Steak a peck on the lips. “Doesn’t mean I’ll completely stop calling you names though, you savage dork.”

“You fashion geek.”

They laughed and talked into the night.


End file.
